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- Чарльз Буковски
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"
Fuck
that
son
-
of
-
a
-
bitch
.
He
’
s
shit
.
"
The
girl
with
dark
hair
pulled
at
my
arm
.
"
Take
me
with
you
now
or
I
’
m
leaving
.
"
"
All
right
,
"
I
said
,
"
let
’
s
go
.
"
I
found
Mcintosh
.
He
didn
’
t
look
as
if
he
was
doing
much
.
I
guess
he
didn
’
t
like
parties
.
"
Come
on
,
Mac
,
drive
us
back
to
the
hotel
.
"
There
was
more
beer
.
The
dark
girl
told
me
her
name
was
Iris
Duarte
.
She
was
one
-
half
Indian
and
she
said
she
worked
as
a
belly
dancer
.
She
stood
up
and
shook
it
.
It
looked
good
.
"
You
really
need
a
costume
to
get
the
full
effect
,
"
she
said
.
"
No
,
I
don
’
t
.
"
"
I
mean
,
I
need
one
,
to
make
it
look
good
,
you
know
.
"
She
looked
Indian
.
She
had
an
Indian
nose
and
mouth
.
She
appeared
to
be
about
23
,
dark
brown
eyes
,
she
spoke
quietly
and
had
that
great
body
.
She
had
read
3
or
4
of
my
books
.
All
right
.
